I'd rather die than see you unhappy
by QwertyVSAzerty
Summary: P&P and Emma X-over. 9 months. It's the time a baby needs to be ready to see the world, 3 trimesters for students. It's the time to cry, smile, fall apart and kiss. It's the time to build strong relationships...Or to give them an end. It's the time to become confident, make friends, understand what you did wrong and trust people deserving it and, of course, to fall deeply in love.
1. The boys don't answer

"Answer. Damnit, answer !"

Emma threw her phone away. She was devastated.

She took a slow breathe. There were tears in her pale eyes.

"You fucking arsehole. You're a jerk."

She cursed him once again before looking for her phone once more.

She dialled a different number this time.

"Lizzie ? It's me, Emma."

"Hi, Emma. Wait a second. Mary asks me if you know where Darcy is ? He should have pick his sister up and he didn't."

"I don't have a clue. Elizabeth, I..."

She was sobbing. She choked.

" Oh my ! What's the matter ?"

Lizzie's tone was filled with concern.

"George doesn't answer." Emma whispered, not wanting to make it more real.

"Well, wasn't he mad at you ?"

"He always answers. Always."

"There's something else, right ? You're not crying the hell out of you for that ?"

"There was aa huge car crash near his office, in front of the coffeeshop where... Lizzie. Will didn't take any of your calls, right ?"

Realization just hit her.

"Yeah, Georgiana thinks he forgot his cell phone but why..."

"We're on Thursday. George and Will had lunch together." Emma cut her off.

Her heart missed a beat. They didn't answer. Her world was collapsing around her and she felt so helpless, useless at best.

"Should I warn his sister ?" her friend asked, murmuring.

Mary was with her, after all.

"I don't know. Jane works at the hospital, right ? Call her and ask if... Ask."

Emma's voice was only a whisper. She felt broken.

"Do you think..." Lizzie tried to ask, hesitant.

No, she just doesn't to. George was okay. He was. There's no way he... He...

Emma took a long breathe.

"Emma ?"

"It's a really serious accident, Lizzie. Some people involved died and a few others are badly injured. I'm going to try to call George again."

Emma closed her eyelids.

She called George. Each ringtone was a knife in her heart.

She was such a mess.

It was her sixteenth call. She had made herself the promise to cease calling George at the twentieth. He picked up. She heard a slow breathe.

She laughed.

"Bless Him. Thank you, thank you, thank you... I'm so sorry, I.."

"Emma ?"

It wasn't George's voice. She cried.

"Noooooooooo. Nooo... No ! He's okay. He's okay."

* * *

 **Hi guys ! I'm an hopeless fan of Pride and Prejudice, and I love Emma even more.**

 **So, my fanfiction will be about three love stories : two you should have guess, Emma/Knightley and Elizabeth/Darcy and another I wanted to try -tell me what you think- : Mary/Georgiana.**

 **The chapters will surely be quite short -after all English isn't my mothertongue and it's my first fanfiction about both stories.**

 **Obviously, I'm Jane Austen -a bit hard to update from my coffin, though.-**

 **This story is Modern AU -I think you get by now but we never know- so facts will change and I don't really follow the canon.**

 **Characters included here :**

 **From Emma : Emma, George Knightley, John Knightley, Emma's sister, Eton and some more.**

 **From P &P : Elizabeth, her family, Darcy, Richard, Lady Catherine, Anne, Georgiana, Wickham, the Bingleys I think.**


	2. Mary has a date

**6 months and 10 days before Emma's call**

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in !"

Lizzie entered into her sister's room.

"Mary ? You're okay ?"

She looked concerned.

The eighteen year old musician stopped huming and put her guitar down.

"Hum ? I guess." she said, a bit distracted.

"You're sure ? You look... Something is bothering you, right ? Want to talk about it ?" Lizzie finally asked a bit hesitantly.

Lizzie had always felt bad for Mary. She was closer to Jane, and Lydia and Kitty spent most of their time together. Sometimes she feared their other sister was feeling alone.

"I dunno." the young girl shrugged.

"Well if y..." Lizzie started awkwardly.

"I met someone." Mary blurted out, breathing sharply, playing with her silver ring, a common present from Jane and Lizzy.

You definitely couldn't keep a secret from her family. Too much of the stubborn kind.

"Oh. And ?"

Lizzy seemed geniunely interested.

"We talked." her sister sighted.

How people could manage to hide things from Lizzie ?

"Yeah ?"

Mary scowled at her.

"You're not helping." she mumbled, crossing her arms.

"I'm doing my best." the other answered sweetily with a lovely but not so inocent smile.

"Really ?" Mary smirked.

"Spill it."

They didn't talk for a few seconds, Mary looking at her white socks, burning imaginary holes.

"So ?" Lizzie reiterated.

"So it was nice. We saw each other several times"

"Where have you met ?"

"At my last audition, the one at the city's theatre."

I was running late and she brought me here on her pannier rack after knocking me down and once there I realised she was quite known for her piano skills didn't sound appropriate to describe the situation.

"It was a participant ?"

Mary shook her head.

"No, it's a confirmed performer."

She played the piano perfectly. Far better than herself.

"Age ?"

"Nineteen."

"Do you have any chance ?"

"I think so. It's a shy but great person. We'll see each other soon."

She shouldn't have said that much.

"Do you have a DATE, Mary Isabel Anna Bennet ?"

And Lizzie prised herself to be as different as humanely possible from their mother. How inacurate.

"Shut up, Lizzie ! Mum could heard us !" Mary hissed, looking at the door suspiciously.

She was right.

"Oh, my baby girl is going to have a boyfriend !" Frances Bennet cried happily.

Lizzie opened her mouth, astonished, and Mary winced and gave her THE glare.

"It's a date, mom. Not a proposal. Calm down." she stated, half-choking because of her mother's embrace.

"A proposal... Surely. You're a nice girl, if kind of a bookworm and utterly old music centred. But where could we marry you all ? St Peter is okay, I guess, but what do you think of St James ? It's bigger, isn't it ? And we could take some pictures in the garden... I must call your aunt. I'm almost sure she's friends with the parson's wife. I have to go to the hairdresser, girls. Your father is in his office, and Jane called, she'll be there soon. I think she was at Bingley's, but she didn't want to say anything. What do you think about a double-wedding ? That sounds so cute ! Well, I really should go. See you later. And, Mary dear, I hope your fellow is planning to visit us soon. What about next week ? Ask him to bring friends, maybe Kitty or Lydia could meet their matches ?... I'm so, so happy ! When I'll tell that to Mrs Hobbes... None of her girls is married. And the youngest is twenty-two ! Well, you can't blame the men, they are so plain ! "

...

*After Mrs Bennet's departure from the house*

"Mary..."

"What ?"

Her tone sharpenned.

"You didn't say her." Lizzie sighted reproachfully.

"So ? She didn't need to know. It will upset her." her sister snapped.

"You know she isn't that bad. She loves us."

"She loves Jane, of course. And Lydia and Kitty. But us ? You're independant, smart and you always speak your mind. You're different. And I'm different. I wore dark hoodies and black jeans like a teenager, I'm the silent one, who spend her time playing the piano. Mum doesn't understand us."

"She loves us nevertheless. Don't be harsh with her."

"If you say so. As you were always nice and patient. At least I'm not mocking her with Dad when she says or does something silly."

Lizzie felt guilty immediatly. However, she thought she was right on this point.

"You should..."

"She will not care. Or she'll complain about her poor fucking nerves and how can I do such a thing to her."

"Speak with Dad."

"The only one of us he is interested by is you."

"Does Jane..."

"Seriously, is it that important ? You know because you saw Helen and I kissing last year, but I don't see why I should tell everyone I'm more attracted by girls than by boys. I'm normal, Lizzie. Why don't you say Dad that you prefer Byron to Keats ? You don't want to be lectured because it's your right and you can't do anything against it anyway, it's in your nature. That's the same with me."

"Sorry. It was judgemental. I didn't realise."

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"So, what's the lucky girl's name ?"

They giggled.


	3. Emma is matchmaking

**6 months and 1 day before Emma's call**

"Eton, this is Harriet. She's such a sweet girl, isn't she ? She was really a great help with all the cooking for our little gathering. I'm absolutely helpless when it comes to cook."

This nice evening of summer, Emma was playing the hostess for a fundraiser at her house.

Mr Woodhouse was visiting her sister, who was expecting, but Taylor, who had worked as assistant for him for years, and was one of Emma's dearest friend, was present, with the charming Mr Weston.

Eton and Harriet shook hands, and her cheeks redenned.

"Hello, Mr Eton." she managed to say before leaving, pretending that she had to check if the hired staff for the event didn't need help with the refreshments.

"She's quite shy but I'm certain she's delighted to see you. She told me she was eager to meet you three hours ago ! We don't have many people of influence here and Harriet will obviously be glad to work with someone of your kind -she's got so much things to learn from you -it'll be quite an experience, I bet. Your interest for the foundation is rather enjoyable."

They walked into the full room, Emma presentating Eton to the other guests.

"Thanks to him, the association is growing. It's wonderful. My mother would be proud, I guess."

Maybe thirty minutes later, she finally caught sight of George Knightley in the corner of the room, nursing thoughtfully his glass of champagne and joined him.

"Drowning your sorrows in alcohol, my friend ?" she smiled at him brightly.

"Your fundraiser is a success."

"I'm glad it is, indeed." she nodded, shooting a rapid glance at the full room.

When she was a little girl, her mother died in a train accident. Emma travelled as little as possible since then and was always uncomfortable when her friends have planned to take the plane, the train or even the car if they had to spend a lot of time info it.

Her mom was 29 at this time. She was 4, her sister 12. She comforted herself thinking that her mother was doomed to die anyway. She was fighting a cancer and the doctor said she was in her last months.

Isabel created the association when she graduated. The goal was to make aware of the necessity of working more on the security norms in transports.

"Where's the fabulous Mr Eton ?" George Knightley finally asked.

"Shut up. He's nice and polite, him. I asked Harriet to speak of our last actions with him. I'm certain she's able to entertain him."

Knightley shook his head with disapproval.

"Poor girl." he stated.

"What's wrong ? They're the perfect match ! Both polite, interesting people. And they both like art ! Harriet is an artist and he's a huge collectioner !"

"Can't you see they don't belong to the same place ? Harriet will never fit with people like him. She doesn't have a temper strong enough to deal with people above her social status."

"Rubbish. It'll work, you'll see."

Self-confidence was radiating from her. George sighted.

"Is it what she really want ? You can't mess up with people's life like that, Emma. What about the consequences ?"

She crossed her arms, vexed. She knew what she was doing.

"I'm great at that. And they'll form a lovely couple."

"Stop encouraging your friend into this. It will end badly." George warned her.

"I want her to know love. She's alone. No parents, no friends. Just me, and she's my employee for the foundation." Emma explained, hating to have to justify herself in front of her best friend.

He looked at her strangely. Was she really speaking about Harriet ?

"She's young. Maybe she just wants to have fun, and Eton clearly yearns for a family. He wants to settle : it implies wedding, children and all that stuff. I don't think she's ready for that."

"You're trying to upset me. They're a perfect match."

She was stubborn. And, hell, of course she was right. She was always right.

"Your mother asked me to take care of you when she was dying from cancer. I only hope she's not too much disappointed at your childish behaviour."

He said it softly, slowly. It hurted badly.

He left her there. She leaned against the wall, trying to regain her composure.

A woman with curly hair and playful brown eyes took George's place next to her.

"I saw you arguing with George. Everything's okay ?"

Her friend smiled weakly.

"I guess so. He thinks my mother'll be ashamed by my insistance at matchmaking."

"The words are harsh but maybe you should find another entertainement."

"I'm an adult. I don't need him to take decisions for myself."

"He only wants you to be happy."

"Funny way to show it. How was the tutoring ?"

"Quite nice. The girl I'm helping seems quite shy at first sight but she's nice and cultivated. Quite Jane's style if you ask me, lovely but reserved and probably not at ease with a lot of people around."

"Any chance I know her ?"

"Probably not. She's a musician, I think. A lot of humming and taping while doing homework. Her name is Georgiana"


	4. Emma meets Georgie

**5 months and 16 days before Emma's call.**

Emma had always hated the tube. But Herbert, her personal driver, called in sick that morning and she had never wanted a driving license for herself.

It started pouring when she reached a small square, near her meeting place with Elizabeth.

"Lizzie, dear, it's me, Emma. Look, it's raining cats and dogs. I think it'll be wise to reschedule our little outing ."

She listened to her friend for a few seconds.

"Great. See you on Saturday, then."

Five minutes later, Emma entered a coffeeshop, shivering. She was soaked to the bone.

The bartender, a woman in her mid-forties called out a waitress who was busy flirting with a customer.

"Martha, show her the bathroom. The poor girl is going to be sick."

Emma was shivering strongly and coughing severely.

The girl, though looking a bit shallow, was rather nice and brought her the clothes she usually wore when she stopped working.

"I can't..." Emma hesitated.

"Don't be silly, miss. It's still pouring outside and you're freezing. You can give me my clothes back tomorrow -I worked from 7 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Sundays."

Emma nodded. She thanked the girl and changed into the toilets. The strapless glittering black top was a bit to tight and the back far more transparent to make her at ease but it wasn't wet. She wasn't sure she liked the skirt either. It was bright red and quite short.

Well, at least it was dry.

Emma finally took a coffee to warm herself. She drank it slowly, waiting for the end of this raining moment. Men approached her and wooed her. Stupid clothes. She gritted her teeth. Martha came to talk a bit with her.

Then, the bartender, called "Mrs Younge" by the young waitress offered to drive Emma back home. She accepted with relief.

Mrs Younge said her to wait for her and came back a few minutes later with a young man.

"Miss, I'm feeling unwell but my nephew, Georgie, spontaneously accepted to drive you home when I make him aware of my promise to you. Is it okay for you ?"

Emma shrugged uncomfortably. She couldn't take the tube dressed like she was that late, anyway. She followed the man to his car. They sat in silence, and Emma explained where she lived.

"So, you're Mrs Younge's nephew ?" she said, feeling awkward.

"Yeah. She's almost a mom to me. Her sister, my mother passed away when I was quite young actually and my father wasn't very present, I spent most of my childhood there with her."

"I'm sorry. She's a delightful woman." Emma said, wanting to brighten the atmosphere.

"Indeed." the blonde man stated blankly.

"I don't know how I would have made it to home without her help."

She pointed at her clothes.

"You borrowed Martha's stuff I see."

His tone was slighty ironic.

"Er... Well..."

She smiled sheepishly, reddening.

"She's a fool. Can't count the change for her life, poor thing. And look how she planned to get out that night. Seriously !"

Emma laughed lightly.

"I'm sure you're much more well mannered. That shouldn't be hard, I guess, but you really appear to be a fine young lady. And you have lovely eyes." he added.

"Thanks. Yours are beautiful."

She had never seen such dark eyes.

"By the way, what's your name ?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Emma. Your aunt said you're called Georgie, right ?" Emma tried to remember.

"My first name is George. But I go by Georgie. It's less pompous."

He had such a sweet smile !

"My best friend is also named George and hates when I call him that." she spoke softly, before remembering their argument.

"He must be quite boring. The serious kind, eh ?" the young man snorted dedainsfully.

"Yeah. He's not very good at having fun sometimes." she sighted, crossing her arms.

"I've had a friend like that once. Bookish and always lecturing me, like I wasn't able to take good decisions by myself. It was rather boring and he let me when I needed him the most."

"What do you mean ?"

Curiosity was one of Emma's biggest qualities. Because of course, it was a quality.

"Rose -that's Mrs Younge for you- has been sick for years. Her disease increased recently. I had to borrow money to pay medical stuff. My wealthy friend, that I have already helped when his father passed away gave me nothing when I asked. Worse : he left." he explained, bitterness and anger in his voice.

"I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." he sighted.

"I mean, really."

She put her hand over his impulsively. He smiled weakly at her.

"You're a nice girl, Emma. I hope to see you again at the coffeeshop." he said, stopping in front a big house.

"We're already here ? I don't like driving, you should be a skilled driver to make me enjoy it. See you tomorrow, Georgie. And thanks for the ride."

When Emma entered her father's office, George Knightley was there. He looked at her, his eyes wide. She scowled at him, before thinking of her attire.

She lowered her glance. She should have checked if her friend was here before letting her coat and shoes in the wall. She pulled her skirt as low as acceptable. Her top was too tight, and for some reasons she was incredibly nervous.

"Emma, you shouldn't stay barefeet. You're going to catch a cold."

"Weren't you supposed to stay at your friend's ?"

"We changed our plans because of the rain but a friend give me a ride and an other one let me borrow her clothes. Well, I'm going to my room. See you at dinnertime, Dad. George. Please inform Alice if you're planning to eat with us."


End file.
